


a language all nations understand

by Elizabeth Culmer (edenfalling)



Category: Chronicles of Narnia - C. S. Lewis
Genre: 3 Sentence Ficathon, Archenland, Calormen, Crafts, Gen, Prompt Fic, The Seven Isles (Narnia), Worldbuilding
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-23
Updated: 2017-12-23
Packaged: 2019-02-19 04:00:10
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 377
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13115562
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/edenfalling/pseuds/Elizabeth%20Culmer
Summary: Two artisans work on the king of Archenland's anniversary gift to his queen.





	a language all nations understand

**Author's Note:**

> Written 12/16/17 for anonymous, in response to the prompt: [Any, any, _ochre's dust, vermillion too, cobalt crushed, the purest blue, a gram of gold leaf for the border_](https://caramelsilver.livejournal.com/151620.html?thread=5983300#t5983300).

Sechembaris squinted through her close-work glasses at the finished page: green penstemon vines spiraled up the left margin, extending delicate tendrils between paragraphs and words to bloom in pink and scarlet flowers, graced here and there by the blue orchard bees of southwestern Calormen (much missed, here in the Seven Isles, though honeybees and bumblebees had their consolations), a pair of shy white butterflies, and one rufous hummingbird in bold vermillion, and the whole framed by an intricate latticework gold border, made deliberately imperfect by one omitted line in the upper right corner, as a courtesy to the gods: truly an effort worthy of her father's best training and sure to nourish the eyes and souls of all who gazed upon its beauty.

She set aside her gold leaf stamp, pushed the glasses up her forehead, and leaned back in her cushioned chair to stretch the kinks out of her shoulders and wrists; "Ten pages left on my end and I think my hand may twist into permanent cramps if I work any more today; renew my spirit with a reminder of how much the Archen king is paying for this anniversary gift?" she called toward her sister's end of their workroom.

"Half a normal year's profit," Nazileen called back without turning, a fine-point brush held delicately between her fingers, "more than enough to buy this shop and the upstairs rooms entire and thus save both on rent and on worry over our landlady's whims; did I not say in Ifayyapura, O my sister and my other self, that while the North is a land benighted in the eyes of both gods and poets, their gold is as good as any other and rarity makes all talents shine bright as diamonds scattered in dust?"

"I remember that distinctly, just as I remember our father's debts and your unwanted suitors, which I am sure had nothing to do with our abrupt departure from the empire," Sechembaris said wryly, "but in any case, the light is fading and I prefer not to spoil my eyes when we are so close to completion; put away your paints and help me drink to the honor of the slave king and his traitorous queen, since it's their money paying for our wine."


End file.
